


Painful Distraction

by Carter_Ash_Official



Series: A Reluctant Inquisitor [8]
Category: swtor - Fandom
Genre: Alderaan, Sith Inquisitor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carter_Ash_Official/pseuds/Carter_Ash_Official
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their way to House Rist</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painful Distraction

She tightened her arms around his waist, wincing at the painful burn.

Andronikos swore again. “SON OF A HUTT!” Judging from the sheer amount and variety of swearing that he was doing, the thranta didn’t like him, and Andronikos didn’t like it back.

The thranta didn’t respond to the fourth time it’d been called a Hutt’s son.

The pirate leaned back into her. “I hate this thing.”

The thranta let out an echoing groan and began its descent.

“I think it feels the same towards you.”

“No! That’s…” He growled at the great beast and flicked the reins. Nothing happened.

The thranta kept up its slow glide towards the snow-capped forest and Wenia felt Andronikos sigh in disgust. He rolled his shoulders, shivering.

She let go with her good arm and tugged his scarf further up his neck.

He looked back at her over his shoulder. “You alright?”

Wenia nodded. He knew something was wrong. But if he knew what Urtel had done to her shoulder, he’d go and try to kill the Sith. Even if he survived that, they’d be thrown out of House Thul for causing an incident. And then how could she get Zash’s artifact?

The thranta slowed and finally stopped at the Imperial outpost taxi stop. A trainer grabbed the reins from Andronikos.

“You might wanna train that one again. Didn’t listen to me at all.”

The trainer smiled at him. “The reins are for decoration only, sir,” she said smugly.

Andronikos reached up and helped Wenia down. She tried to not use her left arm, but with the snow falling, she had to, or she would’ve slipped. He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her.

“Andronikos.”

He shook his head and pulled his knit skullcap on. “House Rist is this way.” He stayed at the same pace as her.

Wenia pulled her hood up and took a deep breath. When she’d been a slave, she’d always worn a hood to hide that she was Lord Salthar’s bastard daughter. There was something familiar, comforting, wearing a hood to hide in. Sith didn’t hide who they were, so she’d stopped wearing them.

The snow kept floating down.

All she could hear was the crunch of their boots and the swishing of her skirts and cloak.

She wondered if snow could help the burn. She didn’t have any kolto, and hadn’t tried to heal it yet; she’s found it was hardest for her to heal herself. Beneath her robes the wound was throbbing. Probably going to scar, a patch of ruined skin atop another. She needed something else to think about.

“Was she beautiful?” she asked Andronikos.

Why did she ask that? She didn’t care what he’d done, they’d said they weren’t exclusive, and he’d already shown her that he wasn’t interested in her anymore.

But she wanted to hear his answer.

He frowned at the silent woods. “She was pretty.” The pirate looked like he wanted to say more, but shook his head.

Wenia watched the snow spiral down. It was cold, each flake flaring when hit her skin with an icy sting.

Like a frozen fire.

It burned.

“You hear that?” Andronikos asked softly.

She pushed back her hood, listening intently with her good ear. Maybe some bushes moving?

Another one of the vorn tigers prowled into view a couple yards ahead on the path. It caught sight of them. It snarled, and leap at them, covering the whole distance in one leap.

Andronikos wasn’t its target.

Wenia threw up a Force-shield around herself, but the beast still knocked her flat on her back.

The vorn tiger growled and snapped its jaws.

She barely got her arm out the way. Wenia Force-pushed it off of her, throwing lightning at it.

Andronikos was firing away, running right at it, pissed off.

“Move!” Wenia yelled at him. She climbed to her feet, gathering the Force.

He dove to his right.

And she grabbed ahold of the beast’s mind with the Force, held it in her palm, and crushed it.

It let out a scream and dropped dead.

She shocked the body again for good measure. Wenia leaned against a nearby tree to catch her breath, nerves rattled.

“Okay?” Andronikos touched her wounded shoulder. He was covered in snow.

She winced and shook off his arm. “It just took me by surprise.”

“Yeah,” he began to brush the white powder off of himself. “Me too.”


End file.
